new way of life

I See Your True Colors

Z. making my way, new way of life , , ,

I haven’t heard this many uses for the F-word in over a month. Sadly some of them are mine.

Looking back to even just 8 days after D-Day. Your voicemail message went something like this, “yeah, I need you to text me Ms. X’s phone number.” She called about the job at the U and I need to call her back.” I remember thinking to myself… well, I needed you to not have an affair, I needed you to be a man and keep your pants zipped.

This time the conversation started with a text from you. “Do you know where my GPS is?” I responded that I believed it to be in the rental, that’s where I last saw it. You simply replied Ok. I thought you were at the rental and couldn’t locate it, but you weren’t even there. You had not even made an effort to look for it, you were just asking me to do your work. I texted you about the cancellation of the cable that I wanted done by a certain date and you didn’t respond. I also asked you for the cancellation number that you said you had when you called to cancel our remote email accounts from Arizona. This was my third request for that number since the accounts are still active.

I called you after you didn’t respond.  Well, my goodness, the heavens opened and the F-word started flying when I asked where you were with canceling the cable. There were so many excuses in just one sentence about why you had not taken the modem to the cable company yet. And when you stopped with your excuses you started with the blame. When I said that you were fully aware that I didn’t want to start the new month with the bill, you said that it was my fault that I gave the modem to you two days before the end of the month. You were reminded that at the very first meeting with the lawyer, I had stated that I did not want the cable to continue after the first of the month. I reminded you that YOU had chosen that day to pick it up even though it was two days before the end of the month. That still did not stop you from trying to deflect and I could write a 1500 word essay on this two-minute conversation and only get through your excuses.

You started moving stuff out of the rental. I had a voicemail telling me that you were missing your HDMI cable and that if I gave it to Mr. A when returning the roku that someone owes you an $80 cable. And then an hour later a text that said you were still waiting to hear about your cable. Really? Really!? You couldn’t simply call and say, hey, I think you might have given my HDMI cable to Mr. A. and could you see if he has it.

Over the past 41 days there has been a lot of excuses and a lot of blame and no responsibility. In fact, on D-day, that is how you opened the conversation. The first words out of your mouth were “because you... and it went from there to your story of how you “stepped out” on me. And when you were done talking and it was my turn, I told you that you didn’t get to just tell me you “stepped out.” You needed to explain exactly what that meant and with whom. After you told me, I said to you specifically, “I will forgive you and I will forgive her and I will not be mean to her or speak ill of her and that you needed to decide if this was over or if you wanted out.” I’m not sure why you asked me to wait for an answer until you got back from your visit to see your family.  It’s not like we were purchasing a car, this was our marriage and you needed time to think about whether you wanted in or out?!?

I see that now, but not that night as I was numb with the news so I said yes to your request of time and I left the rental—again, why I was the one to leave I have no idea. I texted you late that night to say that I forgot a house key and to find out when a good time would be to come back and get one you didn’t respond. I used the spare key that my parents had to get back into the rental, you weren’t there. It was 6:30 am, the car was there, the scooter was there but you were not. I returned to the rental at 10 am and asked you where you were knowing full well that you were with her. You offered me another excuse saying that her daughter had called you, upset because her mom was such a wreck and that you needed to come over, so you did. YOUR WIFE WAS A WRECK but you didn’t feel you needed to see how I was doing, instead you went to see how your girlfriend was coping with the news that you told me about the affair. You are an asshole.

You owe me too… you owe me a new heart. You owe me a refund on the time that you stole from me, both past and future. If you want to make it about money and possessions, you owe me seven years of supporting us and working three jobs to try to keep what we had in Arizona, you have to get a 10×10 storage unit to store all the stuff that you are keeping from this marriage. But then again, your girlfriends house, pardon me, your new place, is already furnished. You are fortunate that I am not asking for spousal support. Let’s not start playing the You Owe Me game because I assure you, that one, I will win.

You need to know that I’m not yours to bully anymore. You can’t control me with your anger any longer. You cannot cut me down with your words or your attitude. I don’t plan my day around whether or not we might encounter an unfamiliar situation that might cause you to panic or where you might be out of your element. I look back and realize that I ran a lot of interference not only with strangers, but also your friends and our families.

Again, I ask myself… Am I angry with you or am I angry at the time I feel I was cheated out of?  The answer is F-yeah.

Love Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

Z. new way of life, Stages of grief , , , , , ,

Friends, I’m sorry for the delay in posting. I didn’t have an internet connection where I was housesitting. 

I forgot where I lived. What an odd feeling.

I spent the long weekend house-sitting/pet-sitting for friends. I left their house and was making my way back across town, got to the corner, made a left and realized that was the way to the rental not to where I now lived. I started crying in the car.

What’s different now about my crying is that it’s over just as quickly as it starts. It’s as if I’m only allowed a certain number of tears whereas just 30 short days ago, I would cry for what felt like forever. I’m still angry and I imagine that has something to do with it.

I hate to admit it but I like the anger. I am able to make decisions quicker. For instance, it was very matter of fact when I called to cancel you from the car insurance. It was very easy to call the cell phone carrier and remind them that the discount we were receiving was only applicable to my household and you were no longer a part of “my household,” and when updating my new address with our pharmacist, it was quite easy, in fact too easy, to say that you were no longer on my insurance plan. Being angry makes it easier to say that you are having an affair, that you now live with her and aren’t pursuing any other living arrangement. It makes it easier to be matter of fact with the lawyer, as I am no longer blinded by tears when talking about the facts of the divorce.

My mom tells me to hold onto my anger. I realize what she is trying to say, but like so many things in others tell me, it’s not easy to do. I don’t want to hold onto the anger. I want to hold onto my marriage. I want to hold onto my husband but each day, it is easier to accept that I no longer have those things, just like I no longer live in our home.

I don’t pray for you as often. I recognize that eventually I will stop praying for you as my husband. For years, I prayed through the book The Power of a Praying Wife. I faithfully followed the command of the Bible, which instructs me to pray continually for my husband. It also says that husbands are to love their wives like they love to church. You may have hurt me, but you have wronged God. I don’t know where you are with that, but I do know that going to a different church certainly doesn’t make things right. It just makes it easier to be someone different from who you really are.

I still have the texts from the night you lied about going to work. You told me that you were going to B’s house at 6:30pm and that you would just change there for your midnight shift. At 11:58 pm, you texted me “@ work, g’nite.” I texted you back “I love you, I’m praying for you.” You didn’t respond which was very uncharacteristic for you but now I know you were likely naked in her bed. Looking back at the chat log I can see where you texted your friend to cover your shift and the back and forth you had with him. I can see where you texted me. You very purposely made the choice to send me a text and you likely jokingly said to her that you needed to text me that you were at work. I can see both of you laughing at my expense. Just so you know, writing that sentence makes me sick to my stomach.

The layers of lies that you went through make me exhausted and I cannot imagine how you kept them all straight. Who were you to everyone? I find out you were telling certain people one thing and others different things. I know that even after you moved out that you were still carrying on with lies. You should know those lies and stories are making their way to me. I now simply say, Ok when someone says anything to me. Not only does it no longer matter but I’m not going to excuse or defend you, because you are entitled to neither.

I have said to you over and over again since D-Day that for ten years, I always had your back – I was always on your side. You told me that hindsight showed you that. I told you hindsight doesn’t help me heal.

What is helping me heal is the continued support of my friends and family who have faithfully had my back. I reflect now on how often you really stood up for me and I can’t recall any. You were there for me in emergencies but I was there for you always. I’m glad that I’m angry because I can keep reminding myself that you didn’t deserve me as a wife and you don’t deserve me as a friend. I no longer have your back but I don’t wish you ill. I just wish you had been the man I believed and always said you could be. I’m angry that you proved me wrong and everyone else right.

Angry is the New Black

Z. memories, new way of life, Stages of grief , , , , , ,

If angry is the new black, then today I am in style!

I went grocery shopping today for the first time since D-Day. It’s the first time I’ve felt like planning ahead. Each day until now, I’ve just gotten up and started my day hoping that it would be easier than the one before. Eating consisted of whatever I could stomach which wasn’t much.

I felt like I had a sign on my head that said “Broken-hearted person shopping” … I got three $1.99 frozen meals, one of those being a two pack of breakfast burritos and three bananas, three. I always tried to have bananas in the house, not only did I know you liked them but I knew they would be good for you and be a quick snack you could just grab and go.

Breakfast was always something I tried to make sure that you had. I was thankful when you said that you picked up a nighttime part-time job to help with our budget needs. On those nights when you had to work from midnight to 7 am; I got up early enough to make sure you had a breakfast sandwich or breakfast burrito waiting for you when you got home. I have to laugh at myself now, how many of those nights that you said you were working did you really work? I already know for sure about one shift that you had covered so that you could be with her. How many mornings did you let me look the fool having breakfast ready for you while you had been fooling around with her at night.

I remember watching you on Saturday, just 12 hours after you told me about the affair, watching you scarf down food from a fast food joint. It was the most aggressively I had seen you eat in awhile. I remember wondering how it was that you could eat. By this time, I had not eaten in 24 hours and just the thought of food was enough to make me sick to my stomach. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the events of the night before and you were already moving forward.

I wanted her to apologize. I wanted you to apologize. But neither of you did and neither of you have so far. Sure, you have told me that you are sorry that you couldn’t share your feelings in a way that I understood and that you are sorry that you let it get this far. But you should be sorry because what you did was WRONG! Not only WAS it wrong – it’s STILL wrong. You are living with her and have been living with her since the day you left the rental. Your new bank account has her address on file and her address is on your checks. Perhaps I should stop considering it just her address…since now, it’s clearly both of you.

At first, you used to tell me that you went from one friend’s home to another. You should know that I believed that about as much as I believed you were (and still are) sleeping on her couch. If you were really sorry for what happened, you would not have anything to do with her. Your stomach would be in knots, your conscience on overdrive because you would know that what you are doing is wrong. Your words to me are just chatter. They don’t align with your actions. And until the day that they ever do, I will over-analyze, I will over-think and I will question everything you tell me.

Yesterday, I saw you briefly to give you the keys to the rental so that you could start moving your stuff out. It was the second time I had seen you since you started your new job. It was also the second time I saw that you had a lovely sandwich made for you and when I asked you “oh, who made your lunch?” your response was delayed as you knew that I knew the answer. When you did reply, instead of being honest, you said that she gets these fancy rolls that were delicious and YOU made up some sandwiches for yourself. I don’t believe you.

It’s been 28 days since D-day and you seem to be moving on. You have a daily routine that includes her and her daily routine is now incorporated into yours. You say to me that you didn’t move on with your life and that you aren’t acting as if life was normal for you but you are wrong. Here is how I know…. you are living in the very neighborhood that you looked at buying a house with me, you are dating a girl that is also a brunette, wears glasses, was born in August, is going to college and you have the job that we prayed you would get. I almost feel badly that she is living my recycled life … almost.

Yes, I’m angry today. I’m angry that you don’t see just how wrong your actions were and are. I’m angry that you can’t even wait 45 days for our divorce to be final before moving in and on with her. I’m angry that you say things to me thinking that I want to hear them, I’m angry that I listen to what you have to say, I’m angry that I respond to your texts, I’m angry that I care so much about a marriage and a life that you so carelessly, casually, and thoughtfully threw away.

Yup, today I’m dressed to the nines.

What Are You Waiting For?

Z. memories, new way of life, Uncategorized, what I wish I knew , , , ,

Take your records, take your freedom, Take your memories, I don’t need them…. Keith Urban

Packing up my things uncovered a lot of memories. We’ve been taking selfies for ten years. I have entire albums of our selfies, micro-documents of memories that we made. I found our box full of ticket stubs…arena football games, movies, ASU vs. anyone football, hotel matchbooks from anniversaries, Mr. & Mrs. place-cards from weddings we attended and pictures, lots of pictures.

I found emails you sent to me professing your love. Your love letters were digital, but it didn’t stop me from printing them out and keeping them. I reread them. Bad move. I took the mix CD you made me (think Ducky, Pretty in Pink) and played it one last time. Again, another bad move. I kept that CD in my car faithfully from May 2003 when you gave it to me until today. I reread the handwritten cover note one last time. You will never know how many times I listened to those songs and read that cover note. For the seven years you were struggling with the pain of the auto accident to the dependency on prescription pain pills to the stint in rehab to the struggles with your depression to the happy times that you were truly present with me…. Good and bad times, I would pull out that CD and find a familiar song to carry with me throughout the day. Tonight, I added my own note to the cover and tossed it and those old emails into a box of your things. I don’t need them anymore.

I watched Tommy Boy tonight and it took everything in me to not send you a text with quotes from the movie. I will always feel badly for the friends who watched movies with us. The way we would quote lines both actual and ones that we made up. The way we would ask questions knowing that the next line in the movie or in the song was the answer. We loved to laugh at ourselves.

No doubt you will give her a mix CD or a song to think of you, laugh at the same movies we laughed at, take silly photos and recite movie lines, listen to the one hit wonders of the 80’s. She will think you carefree and fun… I will know you recycled my life and gave it to her.

You alone must forever bear the consequences associated with your choices. I, too, will however bear the weight of that decision for the rest of my life. It’s been 25 days since D-Day. Do you think about me? Do you think about what we had? Do you think about what you lost? Or do you think about how good life is for you now with your new job. Do you relish your “role” as right-hand man? Do you think that you’ve gained some freedom? Do you still feel justified in your actions – telling people that we “mutually” grew apart? You should know that I am calling “bullshit” on that one from now until forever. You are the last person I need trying to protect my feelings by saying it was mutual – you didn’t want to say that you had an affair (are having an affair.) Let me be clear again, you wanted nothing to do with reconciling and were dismissive of me because I wanted to save our marriage.

As you pack up your things and move on with your new life, I don’t doubt that you will toss any memory of us into the trash. Why make it just metaphorically? Do it for real, throw it all away, no reason for sentimentality now. You should know that I’m still surprised that for someone who just 25 days ago was convinced he didn’t want anything to do with me or be married to me, that you are dragging your feet on severing the connections you have with me. You still have not signed the bank paperwork to split the account access and Verizon hasn’t separated our accounts yet (grrr) because you haven’t made one call to say that you are taking your own line.

What are you waiting for? Just do it. You are the one that wanted this.

No More Questions

Z. new way of life, what I wish I knew , , , , ,

Sleep, sleep everywhere, but not a wink for me. 

I love sleep. More so now that I don’t get much anymore. Regardless of when I go to bed, I wake up faithfully at 2:45 am every day. I wonder do you sleep? Is it easier for you now that your secret isn’t a secret? I try to force my eyes to stay closed because opening them to the bleakness around me only serves as a reminder that you are gone.

I’m gone too; at least my stuff is gone. It’s partly in storage and partly at the new place, which I move into later this week. Currently, I’m sleeping on the couch, your couch. Our living room looks the same and walking into the rental no one would even know at a glance that anything is amiss until your eyes adjust and you realize the pictures are gone and the kitchen is empty. Was it the same with our marriage? On the surface, people, including me, saw what they wanted to see. But when looking more closely (or in my case, looking back) could one see that this was just a shell of a life? A lie you were living?

I think back to a conversation we had a week before D-Day. You questioned me as to when my parents were leaving since we were going to housesit for them. When I told you the date, your reply was odd. You said it wasn’t soon enough. You wanted to use the time we had watching two homes, theirs and ours, as an opportunity to formally separate. Now I see that you wanted the separation so that you would feel justified doing what you were doing. It would have been easier on your conscience to say to me, “while we were separated, I had an affair.” And since we would have already been separated, your reputation would have been intact in the eyes of your friends when we divorced because you could just play it off that it didn’t work out between us never having to give up your dirty little secret, never having to answer any questions. But I said no to a separation and you weren’t strong enough get off of the train you were already on.

Your lies haven’t all caught up to you. I’m still amazed when I discover yet another one, although the amazement is wearing thin and becoming more the norm. Your friends have stopped asking me about you. Maybe because I don’t know about you or maybe because they do. I’ve stopped asking questions because it really does not matter anymore. Twenty-four days ago, you told me you had an affair; today you are still having an affair. Those are my facts, those are my answers and this is my reality.

In just a matter of weeks, you and I will be divorced. I will become just someone that you used to know and eventually you will become someone that I used to love. Yes… used to love.

The Back-up Wife? Nice nickname.

Z. making my way, new way of life, Uncategorized , , , , , , , ,

Thou shall not commit adultery. The plaque of the Ten Commandments in OUR living room.

I moved out of our rental. You worked a Red Cross event. Isn’t it ironic that you will come to the aid of a perfect stranger but wouldn’t do anything to help your own family in crisis? I love how you go on with your life as if it’s just another Saturday. As if 23 days ago, you weren’t telling me that you had an affair and that just 15 days ago, you had not packed up your stuff and moved to her house. I look at the Ten Commandments plaque that YOU hung on our wall- I think you forgot to read it. But you shouldn’t have to read that committing adultery is a sin, let alone illegal. What about thou shall not lie. Hmm, that didn’t seem to be a problem for you either. What about having no other gods before the one true God—you seem to have exalted yourself into that role of doing what you wanted at the expense of everyone else.

I used to think that things came easy for you and to be honest, I still do; however, what I’ve come to realize is that they don’t stay easy for you. It’s been just 23 days and your shine is tarnishing. It’s amazing to me that you have no sense of remorse. I don’t understand how you cannot feel the least bit sorry or sad about what you’ve done to another person — and by that I mean her. You may have hurt me because I am your wife, but you have hurt her reputation. You walk around in a bubble thinking that people don’t know what she did and whom she did it with? You are a married man. She was the girl who didn’t get you first and she’s not even going to be the girl to get you last. She is just a girl…shiny and used and one that makes you feel special because you don’t know how to be satisfied within your own self.

As I think about conversations we used to have, you used to tell me that you hated that we were poor, we weren’t poor, but you didn’t do anything about trying to help the household save money. You hated that we didn’t do things anymore…I’m not sure when you thought “we” were going to do things since you were always off with your friends. Well, let me clarify, when you said friends you were meeting her.

I asked you if you used protection that night and you said it wasn’t planned. Funny, because you had time to send a text to get your shift covered at work… if you had time to send a text, you had time to get a condom. Then to hear that you both walked into work together the next morning… really? There was no walk of shame, you felt perfectly justified in your actions and paraded that poor girl around like a trophy. I found out you referred to her  as the “back-up wife”. You don’t even consider her good enough to be anything more than a back-up? How does that not tell her everything she needs to know about you at that moment?

I respected you and the situation we were in enough to say that I did not want to speak with you while you were on vacation so that you could think about us and I asked if you would ask the same of her. You didn’t ask her and she certainly didn’t let you alone to think about things. Your chat log was on fire! I’m not surprised that you told our Preacher that you didn’t have time to check in with me throughout the day. I’m amazed you had time to get your work done… 1800 texts in a fifty-two day span! Is it a wonder why I told you the first thing we were doing was getting you off of my phone plan?

I understand that this happened to her in her first marriage and I’ve come to understand that she didn’t want to “lose” again, so she wasn’t going to let you go. You see, if you had come back to me, it would have validated her feelings (wrong as they are) that she has for herself— that not only was she not enough for her own husband but she also wasn’t enough for her lover. I am NOT saying that she’s not worth it because that is my prayer for her—that she would heal from the hurt she has been carrying around all these years and realize that there is more to her than being this other woman. She doesn’t need to find her value in the affections of men but rather realize that she is more valuable than gold to her Heavenly Father. But all I can do is continue to pray for both of you.

I didn’t think that I could pray for the Lord to “deal” with you. I love you and for those we love, we don’t want them to go to Hell. So if it takes the Lord dealing with you in the manner of your health, your work, and your strength than so be it. There are only two choices, Heaven or Hell and you know the saving grace of God but you need to get right with Him. He knows your heart and now so do I. Going to another church isn’t going to change His line of sight. He still sees you for what you are, not who you are trying to be in front of a new group of people. I shudder to think that you might be bringing her with you and the spiritual direction you are trying to provide.

I used to see and hope for the best in you but if what I received was the best then this divorce is the best thing for me. You hurt me but you are no longer in control of me. You held my heart in your hands and crushed it but the Lord can restore me greater than before and in that crushing produce a diamond. You see I am precious in His sight, even if I wasn’t in yours. You didn’t deserve me as a wife.

Running Numbers

Z. looking ahead, making my way, new way of life , , , , , , , , ,

I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring? Tom Hanks, Castaway

I’ve been asked a lot of questions, and I ask a lot of questions myself. We had a joke for it when we were together – you said I was “running numbers.” Well, I’m running a lot of numbers lately, trying to figure things out and having moments of clarity accepting that there are things I will never know.

You left me to deal with our church family and our friends. When asked Where are you? I now reply “You have made some choices and decisions that mean you will not be around anymore.” For a period of time, I contemplated simply saying that you had an affair, you didn’t want to reconcile and we are getting a divorce. I struggled with trying to protect you and I don’t know why. You didn’t have an affair, you are having an affair…we are still married and you are still with her. There is no effort to show me how much you are sorry regardless of what you say.

What hurts the most, the fact that he said those things on D-day or that you are no longer his woman? This one took less time to answer than I expected. It really is a combination of both. In recent months, your actions were more cooled towards me. I attributed that to your extra work schedule and the stress you were under while working two jobs, albeit part-time jobs. I didn’t realize it was the stress of living a lie. One of my concerns that I shared directly with you was that you didn’t make me feel like I was a priority to you. If you wanted me to sit next to you at church, then you would have saved a spot for me, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t withhold affection, you would want to hold my hand, you wouldn’t walk three feet in front of me, you wouldn’t jump at the offer of a friend to go hang out and leave me at home. So hearing you say that there wasn’t a spark between us, that you weren’t “in love” with me, that there wasn’t anything in me worth fighting for would have only been words if they had not been validated by your actions. So what hurts is that your actions backed what you said and that’s why I can’t accept your apologies right now. They aren’t just words to me.

How are you? (Meaning me) Well, at this moment I am (insert assorted answers.) At any given moment I go through a range of emotions. I realize that I’m like the Georgia weather…don’t like it? Give it five minutes and it will change. One lesson you taught me is an old AA technique: if I don’t have a beer right now, I can have one in an hour. I’ve applied that technique a lot lately but sometimes I can’t wait an hour and I have to just get through the next minute. If I don’t cry right now, I can cry in a minute. And the next minute, if I don’t cry right now, I can cry in two minutes.

Why are you paying for the divorce? Well, I’m not paying for it, but I am paying half. And after that, I really don’t have a reason.

How can you forgive him? Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (NIV)

How can you not hate him or her? Love… And I don’t mean my love for him, but rather the love of my Heavenly Father for me. ….And walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5:2 (NIV)

Where is he going to live? I don’t know but yes, I do care. The Lord has blessed him with a great opportunity at a new job and whether he succeeds or fails is up to him.

Are you going to move back to Arizona? Tempting but no. I have created a life here that will go on even without him in my life. And now maybe I will be the one taking the opportunity for the one available ticket.

Now what? Well, I guess I will continue to rise up each morning and breathe in and out and pray that tomorrow will be a bit easier than today and I won’t have to remind myself to breathe.

No Doubt

Z. looking ahead, memories, new way of life, what I wish I knew , , , , , , , , ,

I’m trying to pack and I can’t. It’s not the physical task involved, it’s the emotional weight that putting things in boxes represents. Each time that moving boxes have been involved, there has been some life-changing event that we’ve always tackled together and now I’m left to pack up my own stuff and you will come later and pack up your own stuff. And maybe it’s that your stuff is the “big stuff” so no matter how much I accomplish, to anyone looking in from the outside it doesn’t look like much has changed.

My craft studio contains so much “stuff”…. Stuff that I did by myself. Each piece of paper, each inkpad, each stamp was selected by me. It was mine and I spent a lot of time in that studio. I always said that I was blessed to have a husband who let me have a space of my own. I bragged about your support of what I did and I was thankful that you never held it against me. I was grateful for the opportunity that my little crafts would bring and the cash that would come with those opportunities. Often, they paid for some extra groceries or even take-home when we’d do dinner and a movie from the comfort of our living room.

Your space consisted of the couch or the bed. No matter which, you always had your computer and were always playing online games. I didn’t fuss at it because like you let me have my space, I figured you needed yours… a way to just find time for your mind to unwind. Looking back, it was just a way for us to not talk — to have Netflix playing in the background, to share a common laugh or gasp at what was going on, but we forgot to talk to each other.

I remember saying to you as we were driving to the airport before you trip, and after a particularly tough weekend of talking through a lot of things, that I felt closer to you than I had in a long time and yet, I couldn’t just reach over and hold your hand. We dealt with a lot of feelings those first two days…D-weekend. It’s a shame we couldn’t deal with them earlier.

You sent me a text that said you were sorry that you couldn’t share your feelings in a way that I understood. So am I. You said that if I had only asked if something was going on, that you would have told me. I should not have had to ask. You said that you were sorry you let it get as far as it did. I agree. And yet again, I wonder, is it easier to say sorry now… now that you are sure this is over?

I paid my half of the lawyer’s fees; will you pay yours? You were so anxious for this to end and confident that it would just 19 days ago but you struggle to come up with the full half of your responsibility? You tell me you have just $8 in your wallet until payday and I want so badly to offer you some money so that you can get some new pants for work but I don’t. There are things I want to tell you but don’t. Things that I think you should know, things that would make your life a bit easier but I won’t.

You see, for so long, I was always taking care of the loose ends while you were making deals. And now, you say you go from couch to couch between two homes, one being hers and the other a woman who knew exactly what was going on and didn’t speak up. I know where each lives and it doesn’t make sense. You are always driving her car no matter where you say you slept. I think you are lying and even if you aren’t there isn’t much now that would convince me otherwise. I question your questions, I question your answers, and I question your motives.

Yesterday, I received a text from you asking me if I was going to “shaft” you with the rest of the bills (namely, because the house bills are all in your name). Where in the world did that come from? Again, my response to you is have I proven myself to be so unfaithful to you and my responsibilities to this marriage that you doubt I would continue? You have no sense of boundaries with the chatter that is going on around you. You doubt me, because you doubt yourself.

But you see, I don’t doubt you. I don’t doubt that you will find a way to figure it out. I don’t doubt that you will have your cake and eat it too, I don’t doubt that you will come out of this feeling as if you have been justified in all of your actions and I don’t doubt that you will wake up one day and realize that I’m gone.

Queue Stupid Boy by Keith Urban

It’s Just a Scratch

Z. new way of life , , , , , , , ,

I am a fool for having loved you and a fool for loving you still.

This would be much easier if it were going on like television divorces. There has been no throwing of dishes or plates of food or malicious attacks of character, no serving of papers, no sitting across from each other in a conference room fighting over the turkey platter which was used once in ten years.

In fact, tears blinded my sight as I signed the acknowledgement of divorce. I am the plaintiff, you are the defendant, and you will sign the paperwork tomorrow. It will then cross someone’s desk and we will be nothing but a case number …and a statistic. The lawyer spoke plainly as I sat there listening to the explanation of paperwork and trying desperately to hold it together until I got back to the car, my car.

“My” car… you signed the car title over to me. We got the car back when we were young and arrogant. I remember pulling into the dealership knowing you told them to pull one in every color to the front of the lot so that I could just pick my favorite. They did and I did and now it’s a reflection of our marriage… many, many miles, a few scratches and one big dent that can’t be denied or unseen.

I can’t un-know what you did and you can’t undo the chain of events that have since followed. Has it really just been eighteen days? It only takes twenty-one to form a habit. When I looked back over the phone text logs after D-day, your new habit formed in much less time. And now, you will start your new life with a new car and a new girl, both shiny and new, and I will be left with a ding that can’t be denied.

The more I see that ding in the car’s bumper, the less severe it becomes and I wonder the same of me. Each day that I’m further removed from D-day becomes a bit easier and I wonder if you will slowly start to fade from my memory. We talk now as if we will be in each other’s lives for years but I can’t help but wonder if that is wise. I look back to the model that your family provides… a collection of broken relationships that gather each year at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Friendly enough but the occasional dig comes out and I don’t want that to be us. I told you on D-Day that forgiveness meant I wouldn’t hold this over your head. I’m not sure I’m strong enough yet to keep that promise, as evidenced by our conversation with the lawyer last week.

Our life together ends much like it started… with me working days and you working nights. It’s funny how that seems to be the pattern that starts off your relationships. Relationship – is that what you have with her? It still makes me nauseous. I told you on D-day that if you left you would never, ever come back to me and that I would never look back. Well, we know that the second part is not true. I have told you I would look back and that I will remember, both the good and the bad. However, the first part is very true and I will hold to it tightly. You will not come back to me.

I’m only now realize that might include friendship. Your life will one day lead you to know that you did have a good thing in me and that the only reason you find it easy to say that you are now sorry is because of the certainty that this chapter of your life is over. You crave being the hero – having the final say. Even that night, you tried to minimize the situation. You were unprepared for my response because you believed that by telling me that you had an affair, it would make it easier for me to tell you that I wanted out. You told me you felt like you were holding me back and that I couldn’t tell you that I wanted out. If you felt like you were holding me back then you should have stepped up and encouraged me to be more.

Thinking back to the ding in the car, you talked about getting it fixed but never did. Again, another reminder of how it is like our marriage. You saw something that needed to be taken care but instead of fixing it, you chose to ignore it. Yes, my ding may be here for awhile, but it can be restored and the part the replaces it will be stronger and more resilient. You see that is my new life – it may not be shiny and new but it will be stronger and more resilient.

What Rhymes with….

Z. memories, new way of life

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

I wrote your mom a letter. You said you didn’t mind if I told her goodbye. I feel badly about sending a letter but to talk to her would mean that I would have to answer questions that should be answered by you. Your sisters wanted to talk to me but I told them that couldn’t happen. If you are not completely honest with them about what happened then that’s between them and you. Your family will always be on your side and rightly so; and no matter what I would say, it would only be self-serving.

What would I say? I think it would depend on what they asked…but at the very least it would be the truth, not a half-truth. I’m not sure why you feel it is better to say that we mutually grew apart, let me be clear—there was no mutual. You made a decision for both of us. And now we have begun the divorce process. My friend, L said that it would be most intense because the date of the divorce would likely butt right up with the date of our anniversary. If I could get them to be the same date, I think it would be easier. At least then I would have a great answer to the question about the happiest and saddest days in my life.

I will be sad, I am sad. You were my love walking around outside my body, I’m just sorry that you didn’t realize that. I search my memories for times when you and I were happy and I find them. You told me that you didn’t want me to think that there were only bad times, that you had good times too. And I wonder why you didn’t draw on them to remind you of the love we shared. Was I that easy to dismiss? Was this marriage that disposable?

One day I hope (selfishly) that you will look back and realize that I was a good wife to you, that I was a good friend to you, that I was good, period. I am still not sure about keeping my name. I’ve had it for ten years. I like it, it feels familiar to me and that familiarity brings comfort. For you familiarity brought restlessness and you sought something new.

I can’t help but think of the wedding poem and realize that the something blue comes at the end for a reason. This blog title is meant to honor the last connection you had with your father but it also is the color of my broken heart. As for the rest of the poem… my old life will become new because another woman borrowed my husband.

It’s not as catchy but you get the point.